Taking a spin through time in some Alfa Romeo rarities

The standout of the day was a first-generation (1967 to 1970) 1750, one of 101,880 that Alfa built.

David Booth, Postmedia News

Afa Romeo Giulietta Sprint Veloce (1959).

Michael Steele, Getty Images

Alfa Romeo Giulietta Spider.

Brian Snelson, Wikimedia Creative Commons

The logo of a Alfa Romeo is seen parked in the Autodromo Nazionale Monza during the Coppa Milano - Sanremo Classic Cars Race in Monza, Italy.

Vittorio Zunino Celotto, Getty Images

An Alfa Romeo 6C 1750 Grand Sport car built in 1933.

Patrik Stollarz, AFP/Getty

An Alfa Romeo 8C 2900.

Mehdi Fedouach, AFP/Getty

People push an Alfa Romeo at the start of the 16th edition of the Monte-Carlo Historic Rally in Monaco on January 27, 2013.

Jean Christophe Magnent, AFP/Getty

Brand logos to visualize the evolution of the Alfa Romeo logo .

Handout photo, Fiat S.p.A./Alfa Romeo Automobiles S.p.A.

Alfa Romeo at the 2013 Goodwood Festival of Speed in England.

Brian Harper, Postmedia News

MILAN, ITALY — How derelict has been my education. Twenty-eight years of this autoscribe gig and precious little do I know of one of the industry’s most storied brands, Anonima Lombarda Fabbrica Automobili. Oh, to be sure, I can claim my ignorance legitimate as Alfa’s presence in Canada of late has been little more than a bunch of rusted out 164s and the occasional Spider that some anorak has managed to keep running these many years. Indeed, outside of its homeland, Alfa is the quintessential European brand — long on style and heritage, but woefully short on impact and sales.

A fact thoroughly reinforced by the encyclopedic coffee book compendium — All The Alfa Romeos — the company has thoughtfully provided as backup for we lacking a classical (automotive) education. Liberally sprinkled with cars ensconced in the automotive hall of fame — the 1938 8C 2900 B speciale tipo Le Mans, the 158/159 Alfetta that dominated early Grand Prix racing and the 1967 33 Stradale that is the inspiration for the 4C we will be testing later in the day — the perhaps more interesting read is the corporate chronicle that reads like a Charlie Parsons scripted reality show, so resplendent it is with machinations and intrigue. There’s devastation (the almost total destruction of Alfa’s Portello plant during the second world war), celebrity (seemingly everyone famous drove for Alfa, none more so than The Flying Mantuan, Tazio Nuvolari, who won the 1930 Mille Miglia in a 6C 1750 Gran Sport) and even murder (then-chief engineer, Ugo Gobbato, was mysteriously assassinated just days after the cease of hostilities in 1945).

However, the one thing missing from that glorious 103-year history has been financial stability, the first insolvency coming but five years after the company’s origin when Nicola Romeo took over the company adding his name to the already famous Alfa badge. And since then, though the company has enjoyed brief spates of success, more typical has been the turmoil which finally culminated in the company’s 1986 purchase by Fiat.

Financial upheaval has never stopped the company from producing some of automobiledom’s most classic cars, however, whether they be the 1923 RL which won the Targa Florio, the 1925 P2 Gran Premio which won the inaugural Grand Prix championship and the aforementioned 1938 8C 2900B that still ranks as one of the most beautiful cars ever designed (The 1925 P2, by the way, also marked the debut of Alfa’s triangular cloverleaf good luck charm, its three points reduced from the previous four because one of Alfa’s then-racing stars, Ugo Sivocci, died at Monza during testing).

Unfortunately, we don’t get to drive any of those today, though Alfa’s Museo Storico does trot out an RL for us to ogle. Nonetheless, there are some rarities for us to sample first-hand in the form of a 1954 2000 Sportiva, one of only two such Bertone-bodied sport coupes ever built. Stunningly beautiful as it may be, however, the little dear steers like a drunken rodeo bull staggering about, looking for someone to skewer.

Every steering input is followed by a one-count’em-two second heart-stopping delay in actual turning. Cornering is not so much the art of piloting a fast car as a see-saw battle between thousands of dollars of irreplaceable Alfa and the trees that surround Balocco Proving Ground’s durability track. Seriously, it’s a little like piloting a horse-drawn carriage down a bumpy road; directional stability is much more a general concept than a specific execution. But its 2.0-litre double overhead cam engine is more than willing, emitting such a delicious roar that one almost forgives the wayward steering. That is until you have to turn back into the parking lot with looming concrete barriers threatening fragile sheet metal.

The little 1960 Giulietta SZ Coda Tronca, on the other hand, is an absolute joy, its little 1,290-cc four more than offset by the fact that, thanks to its Zagato-crafted aluminum body, it weighs but 770 kilograms. Only slightly less rare than the Sportiva — but 210 were built — time has been kinder to the little Juliet with steering that is the very definition of delicate and a motor that sounds like it could top 300 km/h, even if 200 klicks is a more realistic top speed. In fact, I seldom venture above 120, lest the brakes, its one significant weakness, give up the ghost before one of Balocco’s numerous hairpins. Nonetheless, on looks alone, the "cam-back" Giulietta is the most desirable car here.

But it’s not the best driving. Indeed, the standout in our short historical drive was neither a museum piece, a pristinely restored garage queen or even rare for that matter. Instead, the highlight of the day was a first-generation (1967 to 1970) 1750, one of 101,880 that Alfa built. It is owned by local collector Marco Mottini and, in one of the most astounding claims one ever made about a 44-year-old Italian car, completely original. And, take my word for it, I perused the precious little four-door’s paint for signs of re-spray and beneath its leather seats for any indication of a remake. Other than a replacement exhaust systems and a set of tires, nothing, absolutely nothing, has been replaced in its 44 years and 32,894 miles. It’s enough to have one questioning the Fix-It-Again-Tony reputation of Italian cars. The darned thing doesn’t even leak any oil.

And despite being the least aerodynamic and least sporty looking car here it was also the best drive. The 1750’s steering was as tight as a modern car, the shifting slick and the engine, despite its paltry displacement, fairly torquey. Only the braking, despite all four wheels sporting then-modern discs, is truly of its period. Indeed, compared with the last BMW 2002 I drove, the little Alfa is a model of modernity and comportment. I’d be more than happy to drive it to work every day, were it not for its utter irreplaceability.

Despite its utilitarian appearance, the 1750 is still a car that manages to engender passion. Indeed, perhaps that is the most important lesson we learn at Balocco this day; few are the Alfas, comely or otherwise, that don’t stir the loins of anyone even remotely interested in internal combustion. It certainly won’t be for lack of charisma if Fiat can’t resurrect Alfa Romeo.

It’s a diabolical test, this combination of high-speed racetrack and paved rollercoaster, all decreasing radius corners and ski jumps.

Indeed, at one point one gets all four wheels off the ground at the top of third gear, only to immediately have to make a sharp right through a slippy, slidey, off-camber right turn as soon as you land.

It’s amazing stuff and it brings out the best in the Giulietta Quadrifoglio Verde, Alfa’s latest hot hatch. Imbued with 235 horsepower of turbocharged 1.8-litre four, Brembo brakes and handling to spare, the latest Giulietta is proof the oft-troubled marque has not forgotten how to get the basics right.

If there’s a lesson here, it’s that Dodge would be well advised to let Alfa set the suspension tuning for any new SRT version of its Dart. Or that we desperately need Alfa Romeo back in Canada.